


Blood Ties

by Ophelia_Black



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Magic, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophelia_Black/pseuds/Ophelia_Black
Summary: "The dead have great power over us, my dear. On Halloween, we are closest to them, and with this potion we can communicate with those we have lost." An ancient family ritual through the years, through love and loss, written for SPH's Ollivander's Challenge, Week 1Originally posted May 2014





	Blood Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SimplyPotterheads Ollivander Challenge - Week 1  
> Prompt: The Black Sisters celebrate Halloween  
> Originally posted May 2014.  
> \- Ophelia

_October 31, 1958_

“The dead have great power over us, my dear. On Halloween, we are closest to them, and with this potion we can communicate with those we have lost,” Cygnus Black says solemnly, turning to his daughter. He sees her peering eagerly into the cauldron before them, a silvery glow reflecting from its surface and dancing across her grinning face, and his shoulders slump slightly. “Bella, are you listening to me?” he asks, rather disappointed that his impressive demeanor had gone unnoticed.

Bellatrix sits up and turns to her father, still smiling broadly. “Yes, Father, I’m listening. You said that this potion lets us contact the dead,” she says. They sit together in the garden, cross-legged on the ground with the potion before them. She had watched Cygnus brew it under the Halloween moon, carefully taking in every movement, every ingredient, as though bidden to memorize it. The young girl did not often spend time with her father, especially alone, and so far past her bedtime. It took all the self-control she could muster to sit still and quiet while the potion was prepared, for fear of distracting her father and being sent away. Cygnus nods, sitting up straighter again and clearing his throat.

“That’s right. This is an ancient family tradition, and a very important one. You’re old enough for me to share it with you now.” He pauses and smiles at the girl, whose eyes are suddenly very bright and full of pride. Bellatrix vibrates with excitement, and Cygnus carefully pulls the cauldron a few inches away from her. She does not seem to notice. “What this potion allows us to do is call upon our ancestors, and ask them for strength and protection in the coming year. Note the color here.”

“It’s silver, Father.”

“It will change after we give our payment and ask our request.” He picks up his knife from his potion supplies, which had been used earlier to chop ingredients. “We are calling upon our blood relatives, Bella, and it is blood that they seek as payment.” He looks away from the knife to glance at his daughter, who had shifted away from him as he picked up the blade. She sits very still, watching him carefully, her smile gone. The wizard looks at her in surprise, never having seen his daughter act so skittish. “It’s only a few drops, my dear, and I’ll not ask it of you tonight,” he assures her hastily. Bellatrix nods slowly, relaxing again, but not moving closer again.

Cygnus frowns, but continues. “First, you choose who you wish to contact. I was named after my grandfather, and he died several years after I learned this ritual. I have always called upon him since then, and he has always responded. For every relative you call upon, you add one drop of blood for every person you wish to have them protect.” He extends a finger over the potion and brings the knife down upon it. The cut immediately wells with blood, and he carefully squeezes five drops into the potion. He returns the knife to his potion kit once more, and Bellatrix leans over the potion again.

“I thought you said it changes colors, Father,” she says, sounding disappointed. Cygnus shakes his head.

“I haven’t made my request yet, Bella. It goes like this.” He stirs the potion once, and intones in the most impressive voice he can muster, feeling his daughter’s eyes on him. “Cygnus Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Druella, to Bellatrix,” he winks at her, and she giggles, “to Andromeda, and to Narcissa. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.”

A moment passes in the night, and then Bellatrix gasps. A flash of white light obscures the cauldron, then the potion within glittered green. “Does that mean he accepted, Father?” she asks, eyes fixed upon the potion. “Will he protect us?”

Cygnus nods and rests a hand on her shoulder. “Of course. There is nothing stronger than family, nothing more important than family. Never forget that. _Toujours pur_.”

“ _Toujours pur_ ,” Bellatrix whispers.

_October 31, 1966_

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be out this late…” Bellatrix rolls her eyes and Andromeda throws up her hands in exasperation.

“Merlin, Cissy, are you going to be whining all night? It has to be brewed under the moonlight. The moon is out late, yeah? Or did they not cover that in Astronomy yet?” Narcissa stops walking, hands on her hips and eyes flashing. She opens her mouth to retort, but Bellatrix hastily slaps a hand over it.

“Yes, we aren’t supposed to be out this late. So don’t you think it might help to, I don’t know, _shut up_?” she hisses. Narcissa scowls, but nods, and Bellatrix removes her hand. She turns her glare to the still-smirking Andromeda, who gives her a thumbs-up. She relaxes, allowing a smile to tug at her lips. Now silenced, the trio make their way carefully through the corridors, slipping through the great front doors and onto the grounds. Andromeda stops a few feet from the castle doors.

“There’s no reason to go far out onto the grounds. The sooner we finish, the better,” she whispers. Her sisters nod, and settle themselves carefully on the grass. Half an hour later, they sit before a filled cauldron as Bellatrix carefully packs away her ingredients. Narcissa inspects the letter their father had sent earlier in the week, in which he had shared the potion instructions, while Andromeda swirls the potion around and peers at it.

“It seems kind of dull to me, Bella. Isn’t it supposed to be a brighter silver?”

“The letter says it’s supposed to be pretty bright, yeah, and that’s what it always looked like before. Did you do it wrong?”

Bellatrix scowls, snatching the parchment away and stowing it in her bag with her potion kit. “I didn’t do it wrong. I know how to make a potion.”

“Well, it’s the first time you did this one, and it looks weird.”

“It doesn’t look weird, Andy!”

“Shhhhh!” They look up to see Narcissa pointing towards the door. A shadow moved behind it and the three hold their breaths, waiting… Bellatrix quickly grows bored, and looks down at her potion, swishing it in the cauldron. Andromeda elbows her, and she puts it back down, scowling.

After a few minutes, Narcissa breathes, “I think the coast is clear. Let’s hurry.”

The other two nod, and turn to the potion. “I know I did it right, ok? It looks dark because we’re sitting in the shadow. It’s fine,” Bellatrix insists. Andromeda smirks.

“All right, fine then. Cissy, it’s your first year, so how about you choose who we call?” She pulls out a knife, cuts her finger, and adds three drops to the potion. Bellatrix stirs it while Narcissa considers.

“How about Phineas-Nigellus? We’re all in school now, and he was a headmaster.” She smiles, and Bellatrix nods and leans over the potion.

“Phineas-Nigellus Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Andromeda, to Narcissa. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.” The ensuing flash of white light half-blinds them, and they hear a shout moments later.

“Are there students out of bed? Students on the grounds?” The girls curse under their breaths as the doors creak open behind them. They turn, almost in unison, to face an enraged Apollyon Pringle, the caretaker. He looks at the cauldron, the potion within a cheerful green, and at the three guilty faces before him. He shakes his head.

“Black, Black, and Black, that’ll be detention for all of you, and twenty points from Slytherin. Each,” he adds, and they all groan. “Get inside, right now.” Under his glare, the girls pick up and empty the cauldron, then gloomily march into the castle.

Bellatrix leans towards her sisters. “I told you I made it right,” she whispers proudly.

_October 31, 1972_

Andromeda stares down into the shining silver surface, knife in hand, considering. The light from the potion reflects off her wedding band, as if mocking her, reminding her why this year she must perform the ritual alone. She moves her hand away, and adds three drops to the cauldron. “Cygnus Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Edward, to Nymphadora. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.” She leans back and waits, smiling down at her protruding stomach. She never had the chance to ask her father if he had called for protection for her and her sisters while her mother was pregnant, but if this potion could reach the afterlife in the first place, surely it could reach the realm before life as well.

A minute passes, then two, and the potion remains stubbornly silver. Andromeda leans over the cauldron, biting her lip anxiously. She moves to brush her hair out of her eyes when the familiar light obscures the potion and she sighs in relief. The potion turns a burning, angry red. “What?”

She reaches for the creased parchment beside her, scans the potion instructions carefully. A silver potion, turns green when the request is accepted, she already knew that. But it turned red… She frowns. “Did you refuse it then, great-grandfather? All right… all right, maybe you can’t protect the baby yet.”

She extends her cut finger and adds two drops of blood, then stirs the potion.  “Cygnus Black, by the blood we share, no, I wasn’t finished yet.” As Andromeda spoke, the potion turned red again. “Be that way, then,” she snaps. “I’ll just ask someone else.”

Another two drops, another stir. “You lot are going to bleed me dry if this keeps up,” she mutters. “Ok, let’s try… Belvina Black, by the blood we share, fuck!” A red potion. “Fine, I get it. You’re all too proud to help Ted, is that it? You’ll only help a pureblood, that’s just great…”

One drop this time. “Hm… Lycoris Black, by the fuck fuck FUCK! No! No!” Red.

Her mother’s words ring in her ears, casting her from the family. “You are no child of mine! Go ahead, take your Mudblood and be gone, be away from here! You can have his family, his putrid Muggle family, you are no Black!” Andromeda hadn’t wanted to be a Black, hadn’t wanted to see her parents again. Right? But to have all of her relatives turn on her, living and dead, stings more tonight than it did when she first left.

With a cry, she overturns the cauldron. The evil red potion pours out across the grass, a dark bloody stain.

_October 31, 1996_

“Cygnus Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Lucius, to Draco, to Bellatrix. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.”

“Oh isn’t that nice, Cissy, counting me in,” Bellatrix drawls, a smirk playing on her lips. “Really, it’s a shame you didn’t name your son Cygnus as well. We really need some more of those running around.” Narcissa laughs, putting an arm around her shoulder, even as she tries not to think of her son and his task. Her sister’s smirk grows into a smile, now illuminated by the green light of the potion.

“Do you think we should do another one?” Narcissa asks, reaching over to brush a turbulent curl from her sister’s face. Too thin, she’s far too thin, and Narcissa quickly glances away to avoid the haunted look in her eyes. It’s been months since she’s come back, but she hasn’t gotten used to it yet. Bellatrix shrugs, unconcerned, and the curl falls back into place.

“We normally do one a year, and you haven’t skipped any, have you?” The blonde witch shook her head. “But, I did miss fourteen of them…” She bites her lip and tilts her head, considering.

“Oh go on, it’s your first Halloween back. I’ll do it, if you don’t want to. Who do you want to call?” She adds a single drop of blood to the potion and gives it a stir, then looks up at her sister. “Bella?”

“Did you know that Regulus was a Death Eater too? I only found out recently.” Narcissa blinked in surprise.

“The Dark Lord didn’t tell you that he joined? That’s rather…”

“Do not question him, Cissy,” Bellatrix says sharply, flaring up at once. She looks alive again at the mere mention of the man, those dead eyes now blazing. Narcissa turns away, her lips pursed. The older witch calmed again, a small blessing. “In any case, he joined, he kept quiet about it, and then he died. Perhaps we should see if our cousin would like to lend us a hand. You added your blood, so I think you need to say it.”

Narcissa nods. “Regulus Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to Bellatrix. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.” The potion flashed at once, and turned red.

“Red?” Bellatrix says incredulously. “What does that mean?”

“Did… did he not accept? Can he do that?” Narcissa sounds equally perplexed. They sit in stunned silence for a minute more, and then Bellatrix empties the cauldron and makes her way inside as if nothing unusual happened. Narcissa does not follow for a long time.

_October 31, 1996_

Across the country from the grand mansion where two witches huddle around a cauldron, a third witch sits before a cauldron of her own, the same potion glittering out of both. Andromeda has gotten well into the habit of not thinking of her sisters on this night, but cannot help but do so now. It’s only a small piece of her heart that aches to be with them, wherever they are, but even that is far more sentimentality than she would ever admit to.

The piece of parchment was old and barely legible, and Andromeda was surprised that she still had it, tucked neatly away with her old school things, or that she could read the instructions upon it well enough to brew the old Halloween potion once more. (The unrepentant Black in her heart was not surprised. How could she possibly have let go of it?) She adds three drops of blood to the potion, stirs it, and takes a deep breath. “We shouldn’t be here, cousin. I shouldn’t be asking you for anything, not when it was my own sister who…” She shakes her head, clenching her fists. “Better this than Azkaban, I hope. I hope you’re happy now, at least. You deserve it. You deserve so much. Sirius Black, by the blood we share, I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Edward, to Nymphadora. This Halloween night, I ask this of you.”

Two exiled members of the House of Black, calling to each other from across the veil of death. She knew this wouldn’t work, but she has to try, she has to. Andromeda closes her eyes against the flash of light, and it takes a moment before she can open them. The glowing, hateful red from her last attempt, so many years ago, still burns in the back of her mind. She looks at the potion, and sinks to the ground in relief. Surely, there is no color more beautiful than this particular shade of green.

_October 31, 1998_

A knock barely lands upon the front door of the Malfoy Manor before Narcissa flings it open. Andromeda stands frozen on the other side, hand still raised to knock, eyes wide. “I did not think you would come, Andy,” Narcissa tells her. The nickname returns to her easily, as if no time had passed at all.

“Neither did I.” A pause, then the blonde witch nods and stands aside so that her sister may pass. She leads their way through the manor, which Andromeda had visited in their youth on a handful of occasions. Her brow furrows as her sister leads them down a side corridor instead of through the drawing room. “Cissy, isn’t it faster to get to the garden through the drawing room?” Narcissa stops walking suddenly, and Andromeda nearly steps into her.

“We do not use that room. Not anymore,” she says, her voice deathly quiet. She can still see it in her mind’s eye: the walls and floor painted with blood; the furniture shoved against the wall and corpses strewn in their places; the great snake curled in front of the fire, or draped across the tops of chairs, or sliding smoothly across the table towards its next meal; and everywhere, the Dark Lord’s scorching gaze, nowhere to hide… She shakes her head, but the images do not clear out. She keeps walking.

They silently make their way into the gardens, and Andromeda looks around in the twilight. The sprawling flowerbeds were flourishing and meticulously kept, even in the late autumn. “The garden looks nice. You must have put a lot of work into it,” she says quietly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. What do you say to your sister, someone who had once been your closest friend, who you haven’t seen in twenty-seven years? An entire family had been raised up and brought down around her in that time, a family that she should have shared with her sisters, a family that brought her so much joy for so many years, and so much pain in just one.

Narcissa accepts the compliment with an inclination of her head, and they sit down on a wrought iron bench, stiff and uncomfortable. A cauldron had been set out upon a table, and she pulled out a flask from under her robes. She tips the potion into the cauldron and lights a fire under it, avoiding her sister’s surprised look. “You already made it? Why?”

“I rather thought… that you would want to leave here as soon as you could. I know you have your grandson to take care of,” Narcissa replies carefully, still not looking at her sister. They both knew that there were many reasons for Andromeda to want to leave quickly, and they both knew that the baby was not one of them.

“Dora and Remus named Harry Potter as his godfather. He’s looking after Teddy for me tonight. He seemed grateful, said it would take his mind off what happened to his parents on this night.” The blonde witch nods absently, eyes still on the potion. “If the potion is done, there’s no reason to watch it, Cissy,” she added bluntly.

“What do you want me to say?” she whispers. “That I’m sorry? What good does sorry do? How can sorry fix all these years we’ve cast you aside? I am sorry. But that doesn’t change what happened. What didn’t happen.” At last, she raises her eyes and looks at her sister.

Andromeda knew that she had waited decades for this moment, to hear her sister admit that she was wrong, but the moment is not as sweet as she had imagined. Too much pain had brought her here, too much death. And oh, how she wishes she could have heard it from both of them. “How could you have been so blind? How could you have followed him? What were you thinking?”

She shakes her head violently. “We did not know what he was, Andy. And once we did, it was too late. You do not leave the Dark Lord, not ever. Nobody escapes alive. We thought we were safer near him, and then we were safe without him, and when he came back, he was very angry. There was nothing we could do.” She looks at Andromeda almost desperately, but she scoffs.

“You’re a coward, Cissy. You and your whole family. But you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” She laughs, humorless and almost hysterical. Narcissa thinks for a moment that she managed to get both sisters back tonight. “You’re all alive. You’re all together. My daughter was braver than all of us put together, and look what happened. My baby girl…”

“She died a hero,” Narcissa says quietly.

“She should not have died at all! Our sister did this, Cissy! My sister killed my daughter! She - She…” Shaking with rage and misery, she reaches for the knife that Narcissa had laid out beside the cauldron. She grips it tightly, her knuckles white against the handle, and holds her other hand over the cauldron, ignoring Narcissa’s squeak of alarm. (“Andy, don’t do anything rash…”)

The blade flashes, cutting deeper than she had planned as her arm moves in anger. then one drop, two, splashes into the potion. “She did this, _she_ did this… Bellatrix Black, by the blood we share, the blood you shed, the blood _you owe me_ , I call upon you. Protect and lend your strength to me, to Teddy. This Halloween night, I fucking demand this of you!” She throws the knife down and waits, panting and glaring at the potion.

“Andy, Andy, you don’t want her help. Nothing good can come of this. Why not call upon your daughter yourself, or your husband, reach out to the people you love. Everything Bella touches dies, it’s all she knows how to do,” Narcissa pleads, eyes wide with fear, grasping her sister’s arm.

“What could she do to me? What else could she possibly take from me, huh? She’s dead. She’s dead and I hope it hurts, I hope it burns her. She took my baby from me.” Andromeda lets out a humorless laugh, tears beginning to trail down her cheeks. “My baby who you know full well I can’t call upon. She’s not a Black, and Ted’s not a Black. She owes me this.”

“Father always said that dead have power over us. Don’t give her this power. You should cut her out.”

“Like you did, when she broke out of prison? When you were faced with the monster she became?” Narcissa remains silent, and a twisted smile breaks across Andromeda’s face. It brings her resemblance to Bellatrix to an unsettling point, but now is not a time to point this out. “A coward and a hypocrite, then. But let’s see if she answers. Let’s see if she is one too.”

They stare at the cauldron, breathless, as the silver potion within shimmers innocently. Several minutes pass in silence, and Andromeda strides away furiously. She looks to the skies, and quickly finds the constellation Orion, and the star for which her wretched sister was named. She points to it with her bleeding hand, a condemnation. “You coward! What do you have to lose now? You’re dead! You’re fucking dead! I have called upon you and you need to answer me! I’m your sister! Whether you like it or not!” Her arm falls limply to her side as the manic energy floods out of her. “Whether I like it or not.”

“Andy…” Narcissa calls, her voice low. “Andy, she answered…”

Andromeda whirls on the spot, staring in shock at the cauldron. Night fell in earnest now, the light of the potion the brightest illumination in the garden. The shimmering, green light.


End file.
